Is She Oppressed?

I read it again recently in an Ayaan Hirsi Ali article. I respect Hirsi Ali, but this time she repeated criticisms of religions that have “head coverings for women” and “separate seating for men and women” in houses of worship.

“Why is modesty so controversial?”, I ask myself again.

I started covering my hair when I got married, as per Jewish law and we do attend a shul (synagogue) with separate seating for men and women, though not all shuls do. Fear not, however, I am not oppressed.

I’m not sure why the idea of oppression would even cross anyone’s mind. I’m a middle-aged woman with a master’s degree and marketable skills, living in a free society. Since my husband is a man of decency and integrity, I'm not sure how it would be possible for him to oppress me, even if he wanted to (which he does not).

We discussed this at length when talking about how I would cover my hair, scarves or wigs, when we first got married.

“I like the idea of scarves,” he said, “but you should do what you think is best.”

But I like wigs. I actually owned a couple when we got married and had planned to buy a nicer one to keep my hair covered without arousing curiosity among my friends and clients. I like covering my hair because I like modesty and my hair is something beautiful shared only between my husband and me, not the general public.

I know that’s not how most westerners think of the hair of a married woman, but if you think of marriage as an institution that creates private physical, emotional and spiritual spaces for husband and wife, you’ll see the wisdom, or at least the rationale, behind it. The hair that hangs over a husband’s face and makes a little enclosed space when his wife looks down at him in a private moment, is the same hair that everyone sees ... unless she covers it.

I’m not saying that every married woman should cover her hair, but I like modesty and I cherish our private spaces.

So we were not discussing whether I would cover or not cover my hair, but rather how I would do it. I couldn’t persuade him to change his perspective on the matter, though he reiterated several times that I should do what I thought best.

I noticed that I was naturally drawn to my husband’s perspective, not because he was anything other than respectful to me or because he made an argument I hadn’t already thought of, but for another reason that I had never heard anyone talk about before.

It felt like I had to go along with his opinion, as if he had the power to make me do something. Of course, that didn’t make any sense. I had been living on my own and surviving just fine until 3 days before and he wasn’t pressuring me in any way. He just had an opinion.

“So why do I feel so compelled?”, I asked myself over and over again over the next several days.

The answer, I think, lies in the nature of female sexuality and the pull to connection. With the caveat that not everyone is the same and surely there are some women who don’t feel this way, it seems to me that the connection my husband and I had forged is so strong that it’s difficult for me to not be aligned with him. I feel sad when I think about not being in accord with him on an issue that ties us together.

If I wasn’t well into midlife and if I hadn’t spent 15 years proving that I am utterly capable of an independent life then I might have mistaken that sadness for some sort of subjugation.

We’ve been married for six months now and he can tell you that I don’t always agree with him. It’s not that I can’t stand my ground if I feel strongly about something or that I’ve lost my ability to reason. But speaking as a woman who is tired of being independent and doing everything myself, I place a high value on being in alignment.

We are a team and I relish our unity, so I wear my hair in scarves. I’ve come to enjoy it. I like quirky fashion and I like how I can tie my scarves into high, puffy arrangements, like a cheerful crown. We even bought a sewing machine so I can make outfits with scarves to match. It’s become my favorite hobby, after hunting for eggs hidden by our sneaky chickens.

To be clear, this essay is not an argument for women to “submit to their husbands”. That’s not a Jewish concept and I’m not even quite sure what it means. It’s an argument for the value of marriage and its distinctiveness from singleness, made by a woman who has been single for more of her adult life than she’s been married.

I love being married to the right man. I've been married, widowed and married again, and both of my husbands have made my life better. I’ve been more stable, more joyful and more energetic with their love and support.

As you can imagine, it took me a long time to find a second husband who could live up to the standard set by the first and I said when we got married that I would do anything holy for him. I stand by that statement. I don’t want anything to come between us.

Even a scarf.

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